Disclaimer: X-Men movie verse is the property of Marvel Entertainment Group Inc. producer Bryan Singer, and all other related areas, and none of the characters and concepts belong to me, they are only borrowed for the purposes of the story. Continuity-wise in comics timeline after Jean's 'death' as the Pheonix. I believe Hank Mccoy, the Beast was a member of the Avengers.

Written for wizefics in the live journal community Fic on Demand.

"Eye of the Beholder" by Karen

The television set is turned on but the volume is turned down to almost inaudible level. Henry McCoy is pretty much oblivious to this the whole of his concentration is given to the rolling column of data as it scrolls down his computer screen. The project has been occuping much of his time of late. He did realize that his teammates in the Avengers were in various subtle ways badgering him to get and see more of the world than his quarters and his labratory. While Hank recognizes the validity of their concerns he hates leaving a project unfinished. His stomach rumbles and he takes his attention
away from the data long enough to spoon up a forkful of Chinese takeout from out of their white cardboard containers, then resumed scanning the data.

Meanwhile, on the screen the international field reporter for GNBC, Trish Tilby continued her live broadcast from the East River in New York City.

"This is Trish Trilby, and it's a sunny brisk day here in the Big Apple. A ferry operator making his daily tranists between the mainland and Staten Island, has stumbled on a remarkable discovery."

"What appears to be a crystal casket containing the perfectly preserved body of a red haired human female. Her idenityf has yet to be identified but I expect this station will have the live
coverage at any time now."

"How the casket was left intact submerged at least 50 fifty feet under the East River is up for speculation. In fact, medical and scienitifc experts are baffled not only at the remarkable discovery, also by the fact that it appears that the woman is good health, in her late twenties, and is still very much alive."

Trish glanced aside to where her camera crew stood, alert and ready for her instructions, and up into the lens of the two way connection that linked her up with her network's main office.
"Ladies and gentlemen, pleaase be paitinet, this just in, the woman fished out of the East River has been postiviely identifed as Dr. Jean Grey."

Hank finished the leftovers of his take out dinner and lofted the empty cartons into a nearby bin, only perphirally aware of the news broadcast that played in thebackground, when something in the tone of the news reporter's voice caught up his attention. Trish Tribly, someone that he once dated off and on in college. He was happy to see her so successful in journalism, and had only been partially attending to the actual content of her broadcast, when the last statment brought him bolt upright in his chair. "Jean Grey, member of the west coast supehero team, the X-Men.

"Good thing that I have all my news broadcasts recording." Hank leapt forward, tugging the black plastic VCR box towards, furiously pressing buttons and playing back the audio of the
last few minutes. As a current if part time member of the west coast super hero team, the Avengers, he realized he really should follow proper procedures and report this to Iron Man
or some like that, but his curiousity and let's face need for a challenge was such that he wanted to follow up on this on his own. He next step was to requistion a flight out to New York.

Interlude
Westechester County, New York

Scott Summers has forced himself to come here. It's been hard to come to terms with Jean's death.

The fact the she gave up her life in defense of her fellow X-Men does not make things any easier. He realized that this deliberate wallowing is grief really isn't helping matters, but he tells himself it hasn't affected his performance or his leadership. It is a rationalization, but he doesn't give a damn.
On the heels of that thought, Scott pushes himself to come out to the cemetery, and visit Jean's headstone. The memorial service was the hardest part, telling Mr. and Mrs. Grey was relatively easy compared to having stand around the grave plot and pretend to lay Jean to rest when it was only an empty casket.

The following evening, at the East River

The authorities, the members of New York's boys in blue, clad in orange jackets to ward off the chill in the winter air stalked up and down the upper and lower banks of the river, the yellow tape of the police line warning all non essential personnel and curious bystanders to keep away from the crystal casket. The police authorized medical epxert on hand along with the emergency medical technicans, and his assistants.

The dective in charge of the operation to search and question the ferry operator who had discovered it, shuffled his feet and combed his hands through his hair. At that very instant, the whine of a engine grinding to a halt after moving very quickly, reached his ears and a group stepped down from a plan that he only seen once during his stint in the National Guard, many years ago. "What the hell do you want?"

"We're friends of Dr. Grey and his wife. Our apolgoies for bursting in on you in like this, Detective, but we're here to bring their daughter home," a well-built, brown haired man and the apparent leader of the small group announced, flashing a brittle smile.

"How do I know that you're telling the truth?"

"There's no way to know for sure." Scott replied,"Look we don't want to make things any more difficult than they have to be. Scott exchanged glances with his fellow X-Men, and without saying so, he thought "I'm fresh out of ideas, any suggestions?'

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," a new voice interrupted the momentary tense atmposphere and carried in the fog. A tall, heavily muscled man wearing white cotton tweed trousers, an Oxford sweater underneath a black jacket, and a pair of wire rim glasses on his nose, weaved his way through the police barricade. In the light from the police erected stanchions and the hand-held flash lights, Scott realized that the man's skin wasn't as dark as it had first appeared from a distance, it was blue, yes, but blue and furry. "I say, where are my manners?"

"Who are you?" Storm asked.

"Dr. McCoy, although by some lights I am also known as the bouncing blue furred Beast," Hank thrust a hand out and extended to anyone so inclined to shake. "Perhaps you have heard of me?"

"No," Scott replied, rather amused at the other man's scholary demeanour.

"Detective, I think I have a solution that will satisfy everyone." the self-proclaimed Beast said. "I have here a signed document from the Mayor releasing custody of Miss Grey to her parents in the company of these fine citizens, and you will be allowed to send your officers home. What do you say?

"I say, I'm tired, wet, and it's best idea anyone has come up with yet," the detective replied, briefly scanning the piece of paper and realizing with a start and another muttered oath that the paper was geninne.

The brown haired man who wearing a yellow metal device over his eyes approached Hank and gave him a comradely slap on the shoulder.

"Look, I don't know how you managed to finagle that, but we're grateful."

"Jean, uh, I mean, well let's just say that she means a lot to a lot of people."

"Do not mention it.

"Oh please, mention it," a short darker man came forward" Hey, bub, do you mind telling us how you pulled this off?" His voice was deep and gravelly and had that tinge of a chain smoker.

"Logan, Please, not now," Scott whispered.

"Let's just say I have friends in high places, and I pulled a few strings."

"Speaking of which," the only woman in the group added.

"Please come with us, we have much to discuss."

"I know who you are. The X-Men." Hank smiled. "I guess some reputations really do precede the owners. Lead the way."